Voodoo Boys(Temporary Hiatus)
by AlcatrazisGod
Summary: (Sequel to Blood Gulch) When Sarge discovers that one of his beloved books has turned up missing, he immediately accuses Ruby of stealing it. He decides to use the powers of voodoo to zap himself, and the other Reds and Blues to the strange place where Ruby lives. Meanwhile, Fuhrer Donut has ordered an all out war with Poland, and the entire continent of Europe.[Under Hiatus]
1. Something's Missing

_Note: I have decided to move Voodoo Boys up the priority list since Blood Gulch was so popular. For those of you who are also reading my Crimson series, I will be publishing the next story further down the line. Now without further delay I present the sequel to Blood Gulch!_

* * *

**Something's Missing**

_(Location: Blood Gulch)_

Lopez was busy working on the teleporter which was completely shut down for some reason. "Fuck this," Lopez said to himself.

"Lopez," Sarge's voice rang out from behind. "Oh boy," Lopez sighed and turned around.

"What's up," Sarge questioned. "Nothing," Lopez retorted. "What-ch-ya up too," Sarge inquired. "Not a damn thing other than fixing the broke ass teleporter, that you broke!"

Sarge paused for a moment as he obviously had no clue what the Spanish robot was saying. "So what's up," Sarge finally asked. "You already fucking asked me that, old man," Lopez yelled.

"Oh," Sarge exclaimed, "Now I remember what I was gonna say!" "I wish you would just go away," Lopez admitted.

"Did you know that I just got a shipment of live turkeys!" "No shit," Lopez questioned with a surprising amount of interest.

"We should get them in a few hours," Sarge informed. "My plan was to install semi automatic grenade launchers to their heads and we could use Grif as target practice."

"Wouldn't the velocity produced by the grenade launcher blow the turkey's head off," asked Lopez, although Sarge had not the slightest clue of what he was talking about.

"You're right Lopez," Sarge exclaimed. "I am," Lopez questioned in shock. "I also think we should superglue chain-guns to their feet," Sarge elaborated. Lopez stared at him blankly for a few moments while crickets chirped in the background.

"That way," Sarge continued. "In case we need to gain air superiority over the Blues we can have the turkeys shoo their chain-guns at the ground, which would cause them to fly."

"I don't think that's how it works," Lopez informed. "Oh... my... _God_," Sarge said abruptly and Lopez let out a long sigh.

"We could harness the power of voodoo," the red leader exclaimed. "No," Lopez simply retorted. "And cast a spell on the turkeys so they can shoot fire out of their eyes! Lopez you're a genius."

"That was the most retarded thing I've ever heard," Lopez replied. "Wait here," Sarge ordered as he turned around and ran off. "I think I left my voodoo books in the chicken coop!"

"Ugh," Lopez retorted in disgust. He then returned to his work on the teleporter.

* * *

Simmons and Grif were standing in front of the Warthog, doing nothing as always. "Hey," said Grif. "What," Simmons retorted.

"I think that bitch Ruby, took all of my damn cookies," Grif informed. "For the record," Simmons stated. "Those cookies were for all of us. And secondly, are you sure you just didn't eat them all in your sleep?"

"Alright man," Grif began. "I know I eat a lot. But there's no reason to throw a hyperbole in, just to add insult to injury."

"It's not a hyperbole," said Simmons. "I've literally walked in your room at night to see you passed out, and gnawing on a bag of popcorn."

"Okay," Grif retorted. "But why were you in my room in the first place?" Simmons sat there in silence for a moment. "That's what I thought," Grif continued.

"You thought what," asked Simmons. "The only reason you would be in my room at night would be for my stash of sandwiches."

"What," Simmons questioned in shock. "I went into your room to take your TV. Are you telling me you have stash of sandwiches under your bed? I'm guessing that's why it smells so bad in there."

"Hey, those sandwiches are fresh," Grif snapped. "Bullshit how old are they," Simmons asked, knowing Grif was lying.

"Um, a few weeks," Grif said in recollection. "Fuck! That's disgusting man," Simmons exclaimed. Grif rolled his eyes dismissively and looked back out onto the canyon. The trenches were already filled back up. The flags of Donut's regime were nowhere in sight. There was however, one flag blowing high on the wall of the canyon just above the cave.

"Man," Simmons began. "This place sure is quiet without Donut." "Yeah," Grif replied. "You would think he would have left some people to occupy the canyon while he was gone but nope."

"Not even that," Simmons stated over the sound desert wind. "There was so much going on around here before he left. Come to think of it, that whole situation was your fault." "I know, I take full responsibility," Grif sighed.

"I wonder what would have happened if you drew that mustache on Caboose or Sarge," Simmons pondered aloud. "Oh, good Jesus," Grif announced. "I don't even want to think about that."

"_Grif_, _Simmons_," Sarge's voice called out from ahead. The two turned around and immediately noticed the Red Team leader running up to them.

"Yes sir," they both asked. "How's the Warthog," he questioned. "I need to take it up to the caves."

"It's all fueled up and ready to go," Simmons said in pride. "Good," Sarge exclaimed. "I'm gonna go get my voodoo books from the coop."

"You have voodoo books," Grif asked. "Of course I do," Sarge yelled. "I'm a military leader dip-shit. And like all good military leaders; I have access to the most powerful juju, this side of Louisiana!"

Grif and Simmons were to shocked to say anything at first. "_Whaaat_," Grif finally asked loudly. "Eh, shut up," Sarge ordered. "You don't know anything."

He then turned to the maroon soldier. "Simmons," he called out. "Sir," Simmons questioned. "I need you to go and get those stillborn monkey skulls out of the basement in Blue Base," Sarge informed.

"Uh," Simmons replied. "You keep stillborn monkey skulls in Blue Base?" "Of course I do," Sarge retorted. "In case the need ever arises!"

"But, why not keep them in our base," asked Grif. Sarge turned to him in disappointment. "Do you really want a pile of monkey skulls in the same place you sleep at?"

"Good point," Grif complemented. "Alright, everyone meet back here once you've got the stuff!" With that said, Sarge jumped onto the Warthog, turned on the radio, and sped off towards the caves.

"_Okay_," Grif said slowly while Simmons ran in the direction of Blue Base.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the roof of the Blue Team's headquarters. Church and Caboose were looking out onto the canyon. Church was scanning the area through the scope of his sniper rifle.

"_God damn_," he complained. "This place is covered in chicken shit." "Hmm," Caboose began curiously. "I wonder why there is poop everywhere."

Church then lowered his sniper rifle and turned to Caboose. "Are you fucking kidding me," he asked. "There were literally hundreds of mutated chickens running around here yesterday and you wonder why there is so much shit everywhere!?"

Caboose was silent for a second. "Yes," he finally replied. Church let out a sight and turned back to face the canyon. "Ugh, go jump off a bridge," he murmured.

Church then noticed the Red Team's jeep driving straight into the caves. "Oh damn," he stated as he aimed his rifle towards the caves and looked through his scope.

"That's weird," he continued. "The Reds never go into the caves." After about 10 minutes, the jeep flew out of the tunnel and quickly headed towards Red Base.

Church lowered his rifle. "Huh," he said curiously.

"Yo, Blue," a familiar voice called out from the ground. Church and Caboose looked down to see Simmons glaring at them from below. Church groaned in an annoyed manner. "What do you want, Red?"

"Sarge told me to come get a few things he left your base," Simmons called back. "What," Church asked. "Dude, there's nothing in here."

"No really," Simmons insisted. "Sarge left some... stuff in your base and I need to get it." "What kind of stuff," Church inquired. "Maybe red stuff," Caboose suggested and Church shushed him.

"Um," Simmons replied hesitantly. "Just a few monkey skulls, nothing major." "_What_," Church yelled in disgust. "Why the fuck are there skulls in my base!?"

Caboose let out a gasp. "Is that why I hear monkey howls every night when I go to sleep?" "No, that's Tucker watching the Discovery Channel," Church informed.

"Oh good," Caboose said in relief. "At first I thought there were monkey ghosts hiding under my bed."

"So," Simmons interrupted. "If I can just get them, I'll get out of your hair." "What's going on out here," Tucker's voice asked from behind Church and Caboose.

The teal soldier then walked up next to Church. "Whats up," he asked loudly. "The Reds say they left a bunch of monkey skulls in our base," Church informed. "And now Simmons here, wants to take them back."

"Oh really," Tucker asked as if it was a normal thing to hear. "What are you guys gonna do with them?"

"Sarge says he wants to harness the power of voodoo," Simmons replied. "Oh, that's cool," Tucker stated and Church turned to him. "What," he asked quietly but was ignored.

"Are they stillborn," Tucker questioned. "Yeah," Simmons assured with a nod. "Well, tell Sarge he should grind them up into a powder before using them," said Tucker.

"Dude," Church interjected. "How do you know so much about this stuff?" "Oh, my grandma was _big_ into the whole voodoo thing," Tucker replied. "I would come over to her house and she would always be doing some sort of ritual."

"So can I get them," asked Simmons. "Huh," Church questioned. "Oh, yeah come on in. The sooner you get this shit out of my base the better."

* * *

Sarge arrived back at the Red Base and immediately jumped out of the driver's seat in a panic. "I'm gonna kill that damn traitor," he exclaimed as Grif and Lopez walked up to him.

"What happened," asked Grif. "She took it," Sarge yelled. "That treasonous tramp is gonna pay for this!"

"What are you talking about," Grif questioned further. "Ruby," Sarge informed. "She took it!" "Took what," Grif asked calmly. "Sarge, just slow down, and tell me what happened."

"Well," Sarge began. "I went up to the caves to get my books. I had 5 of them stashed up there but I only found four. There's only one explanation. Ruby must have stolen the fife sacred book on that gives me my voodoo powers!"

"Are you high or something," asked Grif. "No dead man," Sarge retorted. "Ruby is a traitor of the Red Army!"

He then turned to the Spanish robot, "_Lopez_!" "What," questioned Lopez. "Is the teleporter ready yet?"

"Hell no," Lopez said slowly and luckily, Sarge understood. "Dammit," he snapped. "We have no choice. I will have to use voodoo in order to travel to Ruby's home, where we can issue proper punishment!"

"Hold on," said Grif. "Maybe we should look around some more before you go accusing people of taking our crap."

"Shut up, dirt bag," Sarge ordered. "Ruby is guilty as charged." Grif let out a long sigh. "And just what are you gonna do when you see her?"

Sarge thought on an appropriate punishment for supposedly stealing vital military information. "We'll burn all of her stuff," Sarge informed.

"You mean, destroy everything she owns," asked Grif and sarge nodded. "Dude, that's just cruel," the orange soldier said as he shook his head.

"No it ain't," Sarge stated. "That's business." He then looked out towards the interior of the canyon to see Simmons, Church, Tucker, and Caboose all running in their location.

"What the hell are the Blues doing here," asked Sarge. "Relax," Tucker replied. "I heard you guys were doing some voodoo and I want to help."

"Do you know anything about the almighty power," asked Sarge. "Sarge," Grif inquired. "Since when did you become a zealot?"

"Yeah, no problem. This will be fun," Tucker said dismissively. He then held up a jar of several small monkey skulls. "I'll help you get the area set up." "Alright," Sarge replied. "I want to a makeshift teleporter made, since ours is broken."

As Sarge and the others kept speaking Lopez noticed something odd from the corner of his eye. He turned around and saw that the teleporter on the roof of the base was flickering rapidly. "I think the teleporter is working again," he informed but nobody was listening.

"Maybe I should stay here," Grif suggested. "Of course not," Sarge replied. "But I overheard you and Lopez talking about the turkeys you ordered. Maybe I should wait here for them to arrive."

"No it's fine," Sarge said without interest. "I'm receiving them through FedEx so they'll come to us!" "But where going to an alternate dimension," Grif reminded. "That's why I chose FedEx," Sarge assured.

Tucker started pounding the skulls into powder and Simmons was told to draw a large circle. As soon as he did however, the teleporter flickered on completely and each person in the group was surrounded by a green glow. Before anyone had noticed they had all disappeared completely.

After Tucker disappeared the jar of skulls was spinning in the air before it finally fell to the ground. The canyon was now silent once more.


	2. The Ambassador

_Note: Everyone's favorite dictator is back! This chapter is dedicated to making fun of Germany. If there are any other nations in Europe you want me to make fun of in this story, please let me know._

_Note: Thanks to a recent review I have received it has come to my attention that some people may fear I will include jokes about the holocaust. No, I will not include such jokes. I will only make fun of the National Socialist regime, European stereotypes, and the World Wars._

* * *

**The Ambassador**

_(Location: German Waters)_

In a pink submarine only a few miles from the German coastline, Fuhrer Donut was looking out the window. Soon, Doc walked up from behind.

"Hey there Fuhrer," he said cheerfully. "Oh, heil baby," Donut replied and the both casually threw their right arm in the air. Doc then handed the pink leader a stack of documents.

"It so official sir," Doc continued. "We are nearing the continent of Europe. Some of our senior officers had the idea of establishing a new regime in Germany. We believe based on history that they will be sympathetic to our cause."

"That's cool," Donut replied. "What kind of stores do they have there, because I need to go shopping ASAP!"

"Of course Donut," Doc stated. "I'm sure there are hundreds of stores for you to choose from, but before we do that it would probably be a good idea to occupy Germany first."

"No problem," Donut proclaimed dismissively. "Have we heard any word from Poland?" "Nothing yet," Doc informed. "I even star 69-ed them but they never replied. Oh, and since they don't even have an army I wouldn't think it would be hard to overwhelm there nonexistent defenses."

"Now, I was told that our new ambassador was around here somewhere," Donut informed. "Actually he's on his way right now," Doc assured as he pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

At that moment the metal door behind Doc opened up and in came a DD soldier pushing a wheelbarrow.

He ran over to the two and immediately released the handlebars on the wheelbarrow and started panting heavily.

After a second or two he held his hand up in the air. "Heil, mein Fuhrer," he breathed. Donut and Doc looked down to see a large metal ball inside the wheelbarrow. "Is this suppose to be our new ambassador," the pink Fuhrer questioned.

"Believe it or not, but yes," replied the DD grunt. "Wait a minute," Donut interrupted as he took another look at the seemingly familiar ball. "Andy!? Is that you?"

"Of course it's me ya fucking queer," the ball informed crudely. "Andy," Doc said cheerfully. "I didn't know it was you who was coming to help our cause."

"What the hell else was I gonna do," Andy questioned. "I heard Donut was developing a war machine and I was like, _count me in_!"

"What made you decided to join us," asked Donut. "Because," Andy began as if this was suppose to be common knowledge. "When I heard about your job offer I thought it was bullshit at first. Then I heard you guys were on your way to Europe and I thought... This is the perfect chance for me to beat the hell out of those French douches!"

"Actually," Doc corrected. "We are at war with Poland. Not France." "What," Andy questioned in disappointment. "How can you have a third World War if you aren't even gonna humiliate France!?"

"He's right," Donut said abruptly. "France's humiliation is a European tradition. So after the war with Poland I'll send you to go and negotiate a peaceful surrender," he said while looking towards the obnoxious bomb.

"That's more like it," Andy stated firmly. "I'll be like, _yo France_! You'd better surrender if you know what's good for you!"

Donut walked off while Doc continued to listen to Andy's loud ranting that seemed endless. He stepped over to where several naval officers were piloting the sub.

"How much longer until we reach the shore," he questioned. "About 10 minutes mein Fuhrer," one of the men replied. "I've just contacted the German officials. As soon as I told them who we are they immediately started cheering about something called a Fourth Reich."

"Weird," Donut replied, he acted like he had never heard that term even though Andy was just talking about it. He leaned over and examined one of the radar screens.

"What does that mean," he asked as he pointed to a random spot on the radar. "That means water, sir," the officer replied.

* * *

_(2 Hours Later)_

_(Location: Berlin, Germany)_

Fuhrer Donut and his senior officers were now riding in cars to the Reichstag in Berlin. "_Woo_," a voice called out over the sound of the cheering grounds on the sidewalks. "Hitler's back," another man shouted. "We fucking love you Hitler," someone else yelled.

"I love you too," Donut replied loudly while he, and Doc continued to wave from the back seat of the leading car. "But my name isn't Hitler. It's actually Franklin Donut!"

At that moment the crowd immediately fell silent. "Uh," someone began. "Are you still gonna invade 90% Europe and improve the economy!?"

"Well," Donut said hesitantly while his car came to a stop. "I don't know about the economy... But I will invade Poland."

After a few more seconds of people exchanging glances and whispering to each other they all cheered even louder. "Yeah," one of them screamed and the parade continued. "Fuck Poland up," the random stranger continued.

"Oh, I'll try," Donut informed with modesty. Eventually the parade of cars which were being showered with pink flags came to a halt in front of the Reichstag.

"Hey look," Andy announced. "We're here! Thank God I'm fucking beat from all of this diplomacy."

"Diplomacy," Doc questioned and looked back to the bomb in shock. "You weren't very diplomatic when we first arrived." "What," Andy questioned loudly. "Name one thing I did that might have come off as hostel to those border patrol guys!"

* * *

_(Flashback)_

Andy, Doc, and Donut along with the other senior officers and several guards from the Donut-Daffel were being investigated by German border patrol.

"Alright back the fuck up," Andy yelled. "If any of you krauts ask me another retarded question I'll blow this bitch up! I'm talking some serious Chernobyl shit up in here!"

* * *

_(Present Time)_

"Hey man," Andy said defensively. "We got in the country right?" "Well yeah," Doc replied. "But how we got in was morally and ethically questionable."

A DD officer then opened the left car door for the three to exit the vehicle. Donut immediately leaped off while Doc had to order several people to carry the rather heavy bomb that was now the ambassador of Donut's Reich.

"Heil, mein Fuhrer," the officer stated and threw his right arm in the air. "Whats up," Donut replied and casually saluted before twirling back to Doc and Andy.

"Okay guys," he began. "There is a new hit talk show here in Germany and I was invited to be their first guest so I'm off."

"What do you want us to do," asked Doc. "Um," Donut pondered for a short moment. "First, I have decided that you are no longer the Reichsführer." "_Why_," Doc whined. "Are you firing me!?"

"No," Donut replied. "I am moving you to head of my new Medical Research Center." "Sweet," Doc cheered.

"In the meantime," Donut continued. "I have announced that we're looking for a new Reichsführer. So it's your job to meet with all of the candidates. Try to get the position filled by the time I get back."

"So, what show are you going on," asked Doc. "Its called Reich-Talk," Donut informed in glee. "We're going to be discussing everything that is fabulous in our awesome Reich."

"Wait a minute," Andy interrupted. "What the hell should I do?"

"Andy, I want you to keep trying to get into contact with the Polish officials," Donut stated. "What do I say if I do get in touch with them," Andy inquired.

"Uh, tell them they'd better surrender or else we'll blitzkrieg them so hard it wont even be funny," said a cheerful Donut.

With that said Donut walked over to another car and jumped into the back seat before the vehicle sped away.

"Alright," Doc called back. "We'll do our best!"

* * *

_(Location: Reich-Talk Studios)_

On a stage there were to luxurious pink chairs position just in front of a huge flag of Donut's Lightish Redist Party.

In front of the set stood a man in all pink. He had black hair and brown eyes. "Hello all," he stated as he gave the German salute. "And welcome to mein show. I am your host Herman. You may clap now."

The audience then began clapping until a loud buzzer sounded and they immediately stopped. "Now let's see," Herman continued. "The last show we had aired in 1945, and we all know how well that was received."

Herman and the audience then let out an almost robotic laugh before the buzzer sounded off once more and they quickly silence themselves. Herman then adopted a serious expression.

"But now the Reich is back! Here with me today is our new Fuhrer... Adolf, uh I mean... _Franklin Donut_!"

The audience then started clapping once more and a spotlight swiftly roamed over to an area off the set where Donut was standing.

He then walked onto the stage and Herman saluted to him before the two took their seats. The buzzer sounded off again and the crowed ceased their clapping.

"So mein Fuhrer," Herman stated. "May I just begin this new season of Reich-Talk by thanking you for this fabulous suit!"

"Well, I thought lightish red was your color," Donut informed. "And it was!" "Of course Fuhrer doll," Herman declared, "Every color is my color."

"So tell me," Herman continued. "Now that Germany is rearming; what do you plan to do with all of those guns and big, macho men?"

"Um, we're going to give it to Poland," Donut informed. "Yes you give it to them," Herman encouraged. "That nation has been sitting there for too long. It's time we take action against their evil Polish ways."

"Yes, Europe is about to feel the wrath, baby," said a confident Donut. "Sounds to me like this Reich has a whole helping of sassy for the Allies," Herman informed.

"Oh, you know it," Donut replied.

* * *

_(Location: Reichstag)_

Doc was sitting in his new office while another man sat on the opposite side of the desk. The man wore an odd black uniform that was covered in medals and had a red armband. He also had circular reading glasses.

Doc was examining his clipboard and looked up to the stranger. "So," he began. "Heinrich... _Hermler_, is it?" "Oh yes mein friend," the man declared with a cheerful yet slightly nervous smile.

"And may I just say that I am in no way related to Heinrich Himmler. Uh... after all my name _is_ Hermler there is a _huge_ difference! Oh yeah, and I am also totally not guilty of international war crimes."

Heinrich then silenced himself, knowing he was not making this easy on himself. "_Right_," Doc said in slight confusion. "You're application doesn't say anything on where you were born, and there are no records of you for the last... well, a long time. So, what brings you to Berlin?"

"Oh, time travel," Heinrich said with out thinking. "_Ack_," he interrupted himself. "I mean, I was born in Bavaria, but I came here to serve the Fuhrer. Heil Donut!"

"Do you have any wartime experience," asked Doc. "Yes," Heinrich informed with his usual nervous smile. "For instance I had some involvement in the battle of Stalingrad," he said, not realizing that was suspicious.

"Oh really," Doc asked with interest. "Russian side?" "Uh, no the German side," Heinrich stated but stopped himself as he realized he was only digging himself into a hole.

"Ew," Doc replied in an unfortunate tone. "That's not very good," he murmured. "So, what makes you think _you_ would be a good Reichsführer?"

"I think I have good leadership qualities," Heinrich informed with enthusiasm. "For instance, if the men don't do their jobs right, I'll shoot them. If they don't make me coffee, I'll shoot them. If they suck, I'll shoot them twice."

"Actually, execution is not part of your job," Doc informed. "It's not," Heinrich asked in shock. "Who is suppose to do it then?"

"Um, I believe that type of work is in the Human Resources Department," Doc stated. "Alright," he continued and the two stood up. "Well, this was an interesting interview. When can you start?"

Heinrich's face lit up. "Oh, I'm hired!?" "Yeah," Doc replied. "Okay, I can start Monday," Heinrich informed. "I'm sure you'll do a great job, _or else_," said Doc.

"Okay," Heinrich said as he threw his right hand in the air. "Heil _Hit_... I mean Donut."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the basement of the Reichstag. Several soldiers of the DD were around an ominous occult circle.

A strange purple light then took form at the center of the circle as the DD soldiers continued to chant some ominous phrase.

Andy had heard all of the commotion from the floor above and he quickly rolled down the stairs. "Hey," he called out and several soldiers turned to him.

"What the fuck are you weirdos doing!?" "We are harnessing the powers of the most evil being on the planet," one of the soldiers stated before the group resumed their chant.

"Evil being," Andy asked. "I'll give _you_ an evil entity, and that's fucking German broadcasting! There's nothing good on TV."

At that instant, the large purple light took the form of a soldier with the same armor that everyone else had.

"At last," the purple soldier exclaimed with an odd accent. "I have returned! Now I shall annihilate the universe..." The soldier then noticed the crowed of people staring at him.

"What," he questioned. "Who are you people?" "Oh great," Andy said with a loud groan. "Not this guy, again."


	3. Hunting Ruby

**Hunting Ruby**

_(Location: Unknown)_

Sarge woke up in the middle of a forest. He sat up and looked around until he noticed Grif was lying on the ground a few feet away.

He then picked up a nearby rock and threw it at the orange soldier. "Ow," Grif exclaimed as he sat up and rubbed his shoulder in pain.

"Dirt bag," Sarge demanded, "Where the hell are we?" "Where does it look like," a familiar Spanish voice asked from behind.

The two turned around to see Lopez walking up to them. "We're in Ruby's shitty home," Lopez informed. "_Hotdog_," Sarge began. "We must be in the place where Ruby lives," he informed.

"That's what I just said old man," Lopez growled. "Ugh," Sarge continued in disgust as he stood up. "This place is kind of shitty."

"Are you kidding me," Lopez asked harshly but as usual he was ignored. "Oh, Sarge," Church exclaimed from the distance.

The three turned to see Church, Caboose, Tucker, and Simmons standing a few yards away. "Dude," Tucker interjected. "You guys would not believe big this freaking dog was, we just saw."

"That was no fucking dog," Tucker retorted. "That thing looked more like a Sasquatch." "Oh, come on Tucker," Church replied. "Sasquatch isn't real but this thing was."

"My God," Sarge breathed as he clearly was not listening. "The juju worked! My voodoo powers have sent us to another world!"

"Yeah," Church said with a long sigh. "So what now? You gonna start a cult or something?" "Maybe I will," Sarge announced.

"No," Tucker interjected. "There is noway that ritual could have sent us here, we didn't even start it!" "Of course not, dip shit," Lopez exclaimed. "I keep trying to tell you the teleporter did it."

"So, what do we do now, sir," asked Simmons. "We're gonna do what we came here to do in the first place," Sarge informed. "To find Ruby... and convict her of the heinous war crimes she's committed against the Red Team!"

"What did she do," asked Tucker. "She stole a book from us," Grif replied. "I also think she took our last shipment of cookies too."

"Oh my God," Church interrupted in disbelief. "Are you telling me that we came all this way to scream that girl into the ground for taking a stupid book!?" "That's right," Sarge replied. "No one takes advantage of my squad."

"Meanwhile," Church said harshly. "Freaking Donut created a Geo-political cult that armed up and bombarded the canyon twice! He occupied your base twice! Then he drove you into our base where he proceeded to firebomb us both! And you think _Ruby_ is the person you should be mad at!?"

"Yeah," Grif stated. "But you're missing one fact." "Oh yeah," Church questioned. "And what's that?"

"Donut intimidates us," Sarge replied. "Yeah," Simmons agreed. "And Ruby doesn't intimidate us." Church looked at the four members of the Red Team in shock.

"Did you see that big ass scythe thing she has!? The first time Donut tried to occupy the canyon she was able to fight off a tank before the ground troops finally stopped her."

"Oh, we believe you," Simmons assured. "But Donut has mother fucking war machine on his side. He has fighter jets, tanks, a crazy ass army, navy, _hell_ he even has a couple nukes. There's no competing with that."

"Yeah," Church agreed. "But Donut is worlds away! For all we know, Ruby could be listening to us from behind a tree or something."

Church then turned to the teal soldier. "Come on Tucker, back me up here." "What," asked Tucker. "Man, I don't care where she is as long as she's over 18, _Bow-Chicka-Bow-Wow_!"

"Tucker," Church snapped. "Are you crazy!?"

"What," Tucker questioned innocently. "We haven't seen her in awhile so I've got my hopes up that she's grown up."

"Dude," Grif began. "We saw her a few days ago. I don't think she'll be old enough to..." "Hey, I'm not listening," Tucker interrupted. "Because as far as I know, we're in an alternate dimension right?"

Everyone nodded and Tucker continued. "Well, if that's the case... _Simmons_, is it possible that time travels faster here?"

"Um," Simmons stuttered. "It's possible but not likely." "There you go," Tucker quickly stated loudly over the sound of the maroon soldier's rational thinking. "That means the next time we see her, I'll be all over that ass."

"I cant wait until you're humiliated again," Church informed. "Fuck that," Tucker retorted. "I have faith."

"Whatever," Church sighed. "Are we going to try and find her or wait around here all day?" "We're gonna wait," Sarge replied.

"Are you serious," asked a cranky Church. "Yes I am, dead man," Sarge assured. "We're not going anywhere until FedEx arrives with my shipment of super turkeys."

"Oh shit, I forgot about that," Lopez announced. "What," Church asked in a confused manner. "Do you really think you're shipment will arrive? We're in an alternate dimension!"

"That's why we chose FedEx," Grif reminded. Before Church could respond, the group turned away from him and towards a treeline where indeed, a FedEx vehicle was approaching them.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Church said with an amazed tone. The truck pulled over and a delivery man stepped out of the driver's seat.

"Excuse me," he called out. "But I'm looking for a Mr... Sarge of the Red Team." "That's me," the red leader replied.

"I cant wait to see my airborne army," he said with enthusiasm. "Right," the delivery man stated and handed a clipboard to Sarge. "Turkeys cant fly," Church said angrily.

"Just sign here sir," the man requested. Sarge did as instructed and the delivery man walked over to the back of the truck and dragged a box out into the open before returning to the driver's seat and speeding off.

"I cant believe it," Church announced as the group stared at the box. "FedEx can transcend time and space."

"Dude," Tucker began. "How did you not know that? Haven't you ever seen Castaway?"

"Simmons," Sarge ordered as he approached to large crate. "Come help me get this thing open." "On it, sir," Simmons replied.

The two then proceeded pry off the top lid and out came a mass of turkeys. The birds immediately poured out of the crate and scattered along the ground.

"Look at them," Sarge said in pride. "One day they will be fully trained to tear Grif's face off." "I'm right here," Grif reminded from behind but Sarge ignored him.

"Great," Church said with sarcasm. "Now, not only are we in an unfamiliar and probably hostile environment, but now we have about 200 fat ass turkeys to take care of."

"You can say that again," Tucker began. "God damn, why are they so fat?" "Because," Sarge replied. "I want them to be big and beefy so they can disarm the treacherous Ruby quickly."

"I'll call this one Sheila, this one Church, and this one Dinner," Caboose announced yet he was ignored. Before the group could complain any further, the swarm of turkeys suddenly organized into a line and ran off into the woods.

"What the fuck was that," asked Grif. "I think they're on the trail," Sarge exclaimed. "They can smell Ruby's ungodly deeds a mile away!"

"Lets follow them," Simmons suggested and ran after them. The other red and blue soldiers soon followed.

* * *

The group eventually pushed themselves through a large wall of brush. Sarge and Simmons were the first to step out of the line of shrubs to see the turkeys were circling around a young girl in red and black clothing.

"I knew it," Sarge exclaimed while everyone else stepped out of the brush. "We gotcha bitch," Grif added. "_Ruby_," Simmons asked.

The familiar girl scratched her head and looked up to the Reds and Blues. "Mr. Sarge," Ruby questioned in shock.

"There you are," said Sarge. "I'm glad your here," Ruby informed as she immediately stood up. "I'm really lost. I haven't been able to find Vale..."

Ruby stopped speaking once she noticed that the Red Team was not acting normally. "Whats wrong," she questioned.

"Ruby, do you know why we're here," Sarge asked sternly. "Um, no," Ruby replied but quickly adopted a worried expression. "You guys aren't mad at me again are you?"

"Well," Sarge began. "Since you wont admit your crimes I guess I'll have to spell it out for you, which is only gonna make me madder."

"Oh no," Ruby said timidly. "I didn't know you would be angry if I took a few of those cookies before I left."

"Bitch," Grif exclaimed. "I knew it was you! Oh, and you didn't take just a few, you took like all of them!"

"That I'm not actually mad about because it pissed Grif off," Sarge informed. "However, I cannot believe you would commit the evil act of steeling my fife volume on _Uber Voodoo_! How dare you?"

"Uber what," asked a very confused Ruby. "Wait a minute," Tucker interrupted. "You mean that dusty old book in the caves," he asked.

"Yeah," Sarge assured. "Wait. How the hell do you know about that?" "I just stumbled upon it the first day I arrived at the canyon. My grandma was still alive at the time, I didn't think it belonged to anyone so I sent it to her."

"Huh," Sarge questioned in disbelief. "I don't believe it," Grif sighed. "We came all the way out here and we didn't even make Ruby cry yet. This is such bullshit."

"Shut up, Grif," Sarge growled. "You need the exorcise anyway." "Yes sir," Grif replied, not wanting to argue at this point.

"Oh," Ruby said with relief in her voice. She then reached for her right boot and pulled out a smaller book. "I thought you guys were talking about this book at first. I found it in the caves too."

"What the hell is this," Sarge asked as he snatched it from her grasp. "How dare you Ruby," Sarge exclaimed. "You really did commit war crimes! You stole a book I didn't even know I had."

"It was just a book about some of the weapons you guys have," Ruby informed. "I just thought it was interesting so I grabbed it to read later. I wanted to take it back but by the time I was done, those pink guys were guarding the caves. I put it in my boot and I guess I forgot about it."

"Excuses, excuses," Grif said with a shake of his head. "Grif," Simmons murmured. "Why are you digging her into another hole?"

"Hey man," Grif replied. "For once, Sarge is on the verge of punishing someone other than me. I'm gonna enjoy this."

"_God dammit_, Ruby," Sarge said loudly. "Hey," Tucker interjected. "I can't let you just yell at her like that... Wait a minute," He then turned to Ruby, "How old are you now?"

"I'm still 15," Ruby replied truthfully. "Oh," Tucker said in disappointment. "Well, fuck you then. Sarge, I agree she is a dirty thief."

"Thank you very much, dirt bag," Sarge growled. "Sarge, you cant be serious," Church announced. "All she did was take a book you didn't even know you had! Seriously, if you want to punish someone who _really_ betrayed you; then march your ass to Europe right now!"

"Son," Sarge began. "Do I really have to go over the whole, unstoppable war machine verses the teenager. I can push Ruby around but I cant push Donut around. He's a big boy now, and he doesn't need me anymore," Sarge said in an almost emotional tone.

Church sighed in defeat as he knew his arguing was futile. "Now Ruby," Sarge continued. "We the jury, ie _me_, have found you guilty as charged. You're sentience shall be us confiscating all of your stuff. But before all of that, you're required to hand over that big scythe thingy."

"Sarge," Ruby pleaded. "Can I at least keep my Crescent Rose!? I built it myself, and..." Sarge interrupted the story by groaning loudly. "Alright, you can keep that stupid thing. But hand over all of that ammo you use for the sniper rifle part... _thingy_."

Ruby sighed and took her scythe out. She was at least happy she could keep the scythe, she could always find more ammunition for the rifle.

She then took the magazine out and handed it to Sarge. "Ruby," Sarge growled. Ruby then held out her sleeve and high caliber bullets immediately poured out.

"Holy shit," Grif whispered in shock. Eventually the bullets were emptied out onto the ground and Ruby folded her scythe up before putting it away. "That's better," Sarge informed.

"Maybe I should keep some of the ammo," Ruby began. "This place is dangerous and you guys might get hurt."

"Don't you worry about us," Sarge interjected. "Yeah," Grif agreed, "We didn't come here without a back up plan."

"That's right, _orange-tard_," Sarge stated. "Before Donut left for Europe I spoke to him about providing us with military assistance. He gave me his number and said that if we ever needed help to text, _We're freaking dying, hash-tag, Commies everywhere!_ He said that if I were to text him that secret code phrase, he'd light up my location with napalm."

"It sounds like he'd kill you in the process," Ruby said in a concerned tone. "Don't you talk about one of my best soldiers like that," Sarge retorted harshly. "He would never steal from us!"

"No," Church muttered from behind. "He would just burn us alive, or have a firing squad turn us into Swiss cheese. Nothing major."

"I don't like Swiss cheese," Caboose announced. "It tastes like rhino steaks." "Yeah," Church agreed without thinking.

"Wait, what did you just say," he asked after his mind finally processed what was said. "Huh," inquired Caboose. "Oh, I don't remember."

"That doesn't surprise me," Church replied before dismissing the entire topic.


	4. Operation: Kill Poland

_Note: In case any of you were worried that Donut's campaign might turn into a serous war drama, I went ahead and wrote down the most ridiculous battle between Poland and Donut. Which means the France battle will have to be even crazier! Also, when I'm referring to the President of Russia, I'm basing that character off of Mikhail Gorbachev. Who, if any of you aren't aware, was pretty much Russia's equivalent to Dr. Evil. Enjoy._

**Operation: Kill Poland**

_(Location: Berlin, Donutland)_

Donut was sitting in his new office in the Reichstag or as he now called it, "The Lightish-Red-Stag."  
In front of the new Fuhrer was a small camera crew. "Good evening my fellow Germans," Donut began as he looked up from a stack of papers to pretend he was doing actual work.

"I have been working very hard," Donut lied. "At pinpointing the enemies of Germany and finding creative and fun ways of kicking their asses."

Donut then shuffled through his blank papers before continuing. "Our first and most cunning enemy is Poland, but that's a no brainier. Our next and very crafty enemy is the economy. Yes, you heard me right," Donut insisted and stared into the camera.

"The economy is not acting very Germanic which means its out to destroy us... _obviously_. There for I have officially declared war on the economy! Yeah," Donut ranted with confidence.

"How do ya like that Mr. Economy. With all of your math... and numbers, and EU. I don't even know what the EU is, so guess what! Germany is at war with the EU."

Strangely enough, as soon as Donut mentioned something negative about the EU, he could hear loud cheering outside.

"The third enemy of our great Reich," Donut continued. "Is Switzerland. Now, hear me out on this one. They talk all about their neutrality yet I see them at UN meetings all the time and I don't like it! I don't like their flag either so do you know what that means?"

Donut paused for a moment as if waiting for an answer. "That's right," he stated. "We Germans are now going to shun the Swiss until we can get people over there to invade the hell out of them."

Donut flipped through to the last paper before continuing. "The last enemy on our list other than stupid France," Donut informed.

"Would have to be Mexico! I hear about those illegal Mexicans coming across our border all the time. I tried complaining about this but all my senior officers said was that they weren't actually Mexicans, but a type of people some call... the _Italians_."

Donut looked over to some of his advisers curiously before they nodded reassuringly and he turned back to the camera.

"I tried suggesting an invasion of Mexico," he explained. "But we were only met with confusion on which of the four Mexico's to invade. After all you've got Old Mexico which some people just call Spain. The regular Mexico, _New_ Mexico, and now this place they call Italy! So we have decided that from now on, Italy will be known as European Mexico."

Donut placed the papers back on his desk. "Well that was all for today," he informed. "Tune in next time when we kill Poland."

"And cut," a grunt from off camera announced. Donut let out a relieve sigh. "Ugh, this propaganda thing his harder than I thought."

At that moment, Doc walked into the room with a clipboard in hand. "Yo Donut," he said cheerfully. "What it is," Donut asked as if he were a street thug. Although, he said this for no reason.

"O'Mally wants to see you," Doc informed. "Oh boy," Donut sighed and stood up. "He says it's about the Poland invasion. Said something about invading today with the intent of delivering a payload of evil into the land."

"Ew, goody," Donut replied in a more eager tone before running out the door. "Wait, mein Fuhrer," a soldier requested and Donut stopped himself.

"Yeah, what's up," asked Donut. "Is there any place you don't want this to be viewed," asked the zealot.

"Nah, it's cool," Donut said dismissively. "No one ever watches that crap anyway. It's about as useless as the State of the Union Address."

"Then why even film it," asked Doc. "Because I like it," Donut retorted. "_Gosh_," he said in an immature manner before running away.

"I'm sure someone in the world watches our Weekly Address," Doc announced after a short moment of silence.

* * *

_(Location: Moscow Russia)_

_(President's Evil Layer)_

The President of Russia was busy brushing his teeth with a very expensive vodka. The vodka was also mixed with the blood of Russia's enemies which means he and Sarge would get along very well. He soon finished up the morning ritual walked into his unreasonably large living room.

On a very luxurious couch sat a bear who had a red collar around it's neck with a tag that red, "_Stalin_."

"What up with it, Stalin," the Russian leader asked before turning to the television. He then dropped his bottle of vodka as he noticed a pink soldier talking on the screen.

He sniffed the air for a few moments and immediately snapped into a trance. "_Kill, kill, kill,_" he said satanically as if he could smell Germany rising to power once again.

* * *

_(Location: Paris, France)_

Meanwhile, both the President and Prime Minister were both watching the same program. They immediately dropped their wine and croissants simultaneously.

"_Run, run, run,_" they chanted worriedly.

* * *

_(Location: Donutland-Poland Boarder)_

Donut along with, Andy, Doc, and the other senior officers were looking out to the foreign land which would soon just be more Germany, or as it is now called, "The Donutland."

A very pink tank then rolled up to the group and a familiar slightly transparent, purple soldier jumped off.

"Are you the one they call Fuhrer," he questioned in an odd accent. "Yeah baby," Donut replied. For some reason, Donut was wearing sunglasses over his helmet, and was trying to eat a snow cone even though he was only succeeding at smashing the flavored ice against his visor.

"I remember you now," Donut informed. "Yeah, you're that O'Mally guy who tried to blow up the universe."

"Yes," O'Mally replied. "I was summoned by those emo freaks in that weird basement, and this bowling ball over here. He said you needed help kicking Europe's ass. So I thought I would add a dash of diabolical _evil_ to your new empire!"

"Hmm," Donut pondered. "Sounds legit," he finally complemented. "Welcome aboard!" "So," O'Mally asked as he looked back in the direction of Poland.

"Is this where I can hatch all of my insane schemes?" "Yeah, knock yourself out," Andy said with a dismissive tone. "It's not like we'll ever come back to this place, anyway."

"Hey," someone yelled in the distance. The group looked over and noticed several people storming over in their direction.

They were armed with rubber baseball bats and fake hand grenades.

"Who the shit are you guys," asked Andy. "_Language_," Doc nagged. "Fuck off, douche bag," Andy retorted. Doc let out a defeated sigh and turned his attention back to the group of strangers.

"You must be the Polish defenses," Donut announced. The leading man pointed his fake hand grenade at him aggressively.

"That's right, pinky," the first man stated in a Slavic accent. "We've been waiting, Germany. We're not falling for a blitzkrieg gang bang like last time! You'd better just walk away while you have the chance home-boy."

"Hey, fuck you," Heinrich interrupted who was still the Reichsführer-DD. The Polish army then adopted an awkward expression. "Uh, is that Heinrich Himmler," the leading Polish soldier asked.

"Nah man," Donut replied. "He's Heinrich _Hermler_. Huge difference." The Polish men glanced at each other curiously but brushed off the weird encounter.

"Andy," Donut ordered. "Yo," the bomb stated. "Negotiate," Donut concluded. "You got it, boss," Andy replied.

"Alright bitches here's the mother fucking story," the bomb exclaimed. "You idiots are armed with fake weapons which means if you don't lay your asses down; we're gonna blast you into next week! Do ya feel me!?"

"Well," the first soldier replied. "What do you guys think," he asked. "It might be kind of fun to be an Axis for once."

Several of the people nodded and threw their pretend weapons down. "Yeah, that's more like it," Andy stated approvingly.

"Wait," Donut interjected. "There's still one more problem." "What's that, mein Fuhrer," asked a random general who was standing behind Doc.

"The Polish may be conquered," Donut elaborated. "But Poland is still a threat." "That's some profound shit man," a random, and visibly high European hillbilly complemented in the background.

"I know it is, guy who keeps following me around," Donut declared. "There is only one thing I can do."

"Nuke the bitch," asked Hermler. "Destroy their hopes and dreams," O'Mally suggested malevolently.

"No," Donut replied in an overly dramatic tone. He then pulled out a knife and walked past the Polish boarder.

"There can be only one," Donut screamed and stabbed the knife into the ground. "God," Doc stated quietly. "Now I wanna watch the Highlander again."

"What the fuck are you doing," asked Andy. "I killed it," Donut exclaimed as he pulled the knife out of the ground.

"I killed Poland," Donut repeated victoriously as if he had truly done something remarkable. "You have slain the dragon we call Poland," a random zealot cheered.

"Yeah baby," Donut agreed. "Hey, Germany," asked the Polish official.

Donut and his other henchmen turned back to face their former enemy who they had apparently defeated by stabbing a knife into the ground.

"Can we hang out with you guys now," he questioned like he was asking to befriend a group of popular school boys.

"If you can handle us," Donut replied. "Cause we're going light speed. Light speed to _Bed Bath and Beyond!_ Seriously, I heard about this new shampoo they have. It sounds stellar!"

"Yo," a voice yelled out from behind. Everyone turned back and noticed another group of people were scolding Donut and his regime in an intimidating fashion.

"Oh great," Andy breathed. "And who are you suppose to be?" "We're the officials from Austria," the man retorted aggressively.

"Now, we've sat out through the last World War, and we screwed up in the first. So now, we're in it to win it."

"So," Donut began slowly. "Does that mean you're... on our side?" The Austrian representative paused for a moment.

"Yeah," he growled. "Okay, awesome," Donut replied. "Alright, GG Poland! GG," he called out. "BRB guys, Lightish Redist Party out!"

"Now, we've really got the party started," Andy announced.


	5. Backwoods

_Note: Sorry if this chapter was a little short but I was lacking ideas for it. I did add one last FedEx joke because someone requested it and I also have a bunch of ideas for the next chapter so it shouldn't be as short as this one._

* * *

**Backwoods**

_(Location: Remnant)_

Ruby had finally sat down on the ground with in exhaustion. The reason she was so tired was due to the fact that she had just fended of an ambush of a large number of bear type animals that had tried to ambush the Reds and Blues.

Sarge had ordered everyone to retreat for a hill and leave Ruby to deal with them. When the had returned, Sarge was surprised to see the amount of damage Ruby was able to cause.

"Well," he began while Ruby glared at him in irritation as her new friends were beginning to ware on her patients.

"You certainly know how to fight a bunch of bear things." "The fuck are these things," asked Church as he kicked one of the corpses.

"You guys could have helped," Ruby breathed in announced. "We were helping," Sarge replied. "As you were bravely defending us, I was contacting Donut for immediate air support!"

"In other words," Grif interrupted. "We're all gonna die." "Shut up, Grif," Sarge ordered. "The Fuhrer would never leave us out to dry!"

"The fuck does that even mean," Grif asked in confusion. "We're not even wet to begin with." "_Bow Chicka Bow Wow_," Tucker muttered from behind.

"And since Ruby has proven herself to be so useful," Sarge continued. "I think I'm just gonna drop the war crimes I have charged her with, and instead, I'm just gonna blame you. Like I should have done in the first place."

"Bullshit," Grif retorted. "You're only saying that because you saw Ruby destroy those monster looking things. So what now old man? I told you to worry more about driving her to kill us rather than worry about what fucking Donut thinks when he's not even around."

Sarge stared at the orange soldier for a few moments. "I am not intimidated by Ruby. She's just proven more useful, and she's also proven herself not guilty."

"Guilty of what," Grif asked in a yell. "I can't even remember what you were trying to charge her with to begin with!"

"I think it was failure to clean up all the chicken shit around the canyon," Sarge proclaimed. "No, you ordered Grif to do that," Simmons reminded.

"You were mad because I accidentally took a book from you," Ruby informed. "Shut up, Ruby," Sarge ordered. "Nobody asked you."

"Sarge," Simmons interrupted. "Yeah, what's up," asked the man in red. "Donut's calling us back on the radio," Simmons informed.

"Really? Already," Sarge questioned and ran over to Simmons. "I called him about 10 minutes ago and was placed on hold. They said my call wouldn't be taken until next Tuesday."

Simmons then handed Sarge a hand held radio which was in some unexplainable way, able to reach contact with people in another dimension.

"Hello," Sarge asked as he lifted the radio next to the right side of his helmet. "Greetings," an all too familiar voice spoke out in an unrecognizable accent.

"This is the Reich of the Donutland. Raping Europe since 1933!" "Holy mother of Voodoo Jesus," Sarge gasped. "O'Mally!? Is that you?"

"Oh, no," O'Mally sighed. "Please tell me you're not one of those rejects I met at that trashy canyon."

"What," asked Church as he listened in on the phone call. "How the hell is O'Mally even here? And why did he join Donut?"

"That probably has to do with all that evil crap he does," Tucker reminded. "Oh, that makes since," Church replied.

"Anyway," Sarge continued. "I'm calling to place an order for an airstrike." "Oh, sorry guy," O'Mally sighed with a lack of interest. "But I'm the Reichsmarschall. If it's weapons you want I'll transfer this call to our Reichsführer Heinrich Hermler. He runs the whole weapon leasing thing. However, if it is tips on how to become more incredibly _evil_ then I am just the man to talk to!"

"That'll be fine," Sarge replied. "Can you just transfer us to Heinrich whoever?" "Yeah, hold on," said O'Mally.

After a few seconds of silence on other end of the line, a very Germanic voice finally spoke out. "You got Hermler," the voice informed with a yawn.

"Uh yes," Sarge began. "My name's Sarge and uh... I was wondering if I could place an order for an airstrike?"

"No problemo," Hermler replied. "Give me your location and credit card number so we can get this bad ass train rolling."

Sarge gave out a number and Simmons read off a list of coordinates from a GPS he had brought along.

"Okie dokie," Heinrich stated as he finished writing the information down. "The airstrike is being sent by the state mail service so it should take 7 to 8 weeks."

"That just ain't gonna do," Sarge retorted. "We need it now! It's a matter of life and death!" "Alright," Heinrich sighed. "I'll just FedEx it to you, geez. And FYI, it's still going to take a week."

"Dag nabbit," Sarge complained. "Wait, can you add it to express shipping?" "Ugh," Heinrich said in disgust. "Fine, I'll have them use express shipping. But I'm not paying for that shit!"

Sarge thought for a moment on a way to make extra money. Within a very short time, he was able to come up with ideas like turning Ruby into a prostitute, or selling Grif to a sadist club. He then remembered that Caboose always carried extra money off hand.

"Caboose," Sarge ordered. "Yes, Captain Sarge," Caboose replied and stood at attention. "I need about 20 bucks," Sarge informed.

"Okay," said Caboose. He then reached into one of the pockets of his suit and tossed the cash over to red leader.

"Alright, I can pay it," Sarge finally announced over the radio. "Good, I'll talk with the Fuhrer to see what sort of airstrike we'll send you. Have a nice day! _Heil Donut._"

"How is Donut doing these days," Sarge asked but the only reply he was met with was the sound of Heinrich hanging up.

"Now what," Grif inquired in an annoyed tone. "Now, we wait," Sarge replied. Everyone then heard a sudden beeping sound coming from Simmons's general direction.

"Oh, cool," Tucker exclaimed as he walked behind Simmons. "Looks like my uh... pictures are done."

"I didn't give you permission to use me as a printer," Simmons said with a groan. "Oh, that's right," Grif remembered. "Sarge reconstructed you from spare parts from that old printer."

"That's right," Sarge confirmed proudly. "Simmons 2.0 is made with some of the finest bits of machinery around!"

At that moment, several papers fell out of Simmons's backside and down to Tucker's feet. "Oh yeah, that's the stuff," he stated with a little more enthusiasm than one would think necessary for a few papers.

He then began to gather them up off the ground. Ruby walked over in curiosity and picked one of the papers up for closer examination. Her face immediately turned red at the awkward sight of what type of picture Tucker had printed.

"Hey," the teal soldier snapped and took the paper away from her. "You're too young for that," he informed.

"Tucker," Simmons growled. "You'd better not be using me to print your porno shit again." "Oh, sorry Simmons," Tucker stated with fake innocents.

"I didn't think it would bother you so much." "Bullshit," Simmons declared. "I told you not to use my ass for your stash!"

Church sighed as the two continued to argue. "Why are we still standing here Sarge," he asked curiously.

"Because," Sarge retorted. "I'm still waiting for my airstrike. I'm not leaving until I get it!" "Oh, right," Church said as he remembered the call Sarge had already made to Donut's senior staff. "Which means we'll all be dead here pretty soon so whatever."


	6. Inglorious Germans

_Note: I have quick game for my audience today. How many parodies and references can you find in this chapter? Also, someone requested that I add more of the old German leaders to make fun of so here you go!_

* * *

**Inglorious Germans**

_(Location: Paris, France)_

The Prime Minster of France was sleeping in his rather luxurious bed when a bright light shining from above woke him up.

"Ah," he exclaimed and looked around in a panic. The Prime Minster then looked up to see the bright shining figure which he could not completely make out due to the bright white light.

"Who is it," he asked fearfully before hugging onto one of his pillows. "I surrender! I surrender!"

"Calm down Prime Minister," a heavenly voice ordered. "Who is it," the Prime Minister asked as he began to settle down.

"Fear not! For it is I, _French Jesus_," the voice declared. The French Prime Minister let out a shocked gasp. "French Jesus!? What do you want with me?"

"I have come to give you a warning," French Jesus informed. "The Germans have risen to power once again. They will send a messenger requesting you surrender to them."

The French Prime Minster nodded as if this was a usual occurrence he had to deal with. "No problem, I'll just carry my white flag with me."

"No," French Jesus demanded. "If you surrender now, France may never become a world power again."

The Prime Minster looked around his room curiously for a moment before returning his gaze to the shining light above. "We could become a world power again?"

"That's right," the voice informed. "But how can we fight the Germans," asked the Prime Minster. "They're so scary."

"No problem," French Jesus proclaimed. "For I shall teach you how to unlock your inner bad ass."

"That sounds like fun," the Prime Minister replied.

The next day would soon arrive and the Prime Minister had agreed to meet Donut's messenger on the top of the Eiffel Tower.

The Prime Minster was dressed up in an old French World War 1 uniform with a sword at his waste.

Donut's messenger who was only sent to Paris because Ambassador Andy did not particularly like the French.

"Surrender now, and Fuhrer Donut will not beat your asses," the messenger ordered while he conveniently stood close to the edge of the tower.

"I'm sorry," the Prime Minster informed after a long pause. "But we will not surrender." The messenger started laughing but quieted down as he realized this was not some sort of joke.

The Prime Minster immediately reached for his sword holster. However, instead of pulling out a sword, the French leader drew a baguette and aimed it at the messenger's neck.

"Don't be stupid," the messenger demanded. "France is now part of the Donutland! You cant win."

The Prime Minister lowered his baguette and thought on this concept for a moment. "Donut land," he asked quietly.

"This... Is... _France_," he yelled and immediately kicked Donut's messenger off the Eiffel Tower. "Hmm," a French soldier behind his angry leader thought. "This was an all too convenient meeting spot."

* * *

_(Rhineland Countryside, Donutland)_

O'Mally was watching as Heinrich Hermler paced up and down a row people who would all look oddly familiar to anyone who just finished reading a text book on German history.

"Alright, now listen up," Hermler called out in a bad southern accent. "Oh lord," O'Mally sighed. "Must you use that irritating voice just to give the opening monologue?"

"Before I brief you all on this mission," Hermler continued. "I need a roll call." Heinrich then took out a sheet of paper and examined it closely.

"Do we have a... Hermann _Goerface_ present," he called out. A rather hefty and middle aged man then raised his hand with an unamused expression. He wore a white suit and had brown hair along with brown eyes.

"Really," he questioned harshly. "My name is Goerface!? That's literally the best you could come up with?"

"I did not give you permission to speak Professor _Failure_," Heinrich informed while he pushed up his glasses pridefully and moved on.

"Next," Heinrich called as he came to a stop and placed his hands behind his back. "Dr. Josef _Manfoot_!?"

At that moment an average looking man with black hair, brown eyes, and wearing a lab coat sadistically threw up his arm. "Heil Donut," he stated with a psychotic laugh that caused everyone around him to lean away fearfully.

"I would just like to say," Manfoot added and gave a toothy grin. "I cannot wait to get onto the battlefield! I will conduct so many experiments."

A blank expression hit Hermler's face as he slowly gave a nod. "_Riiight_," he muttered in shock. "Remind me why we brought him along, again," another man to the right of Manfoot requested.

He had black hair done up in a familiar comb over, had blue eyes, a fake western style mustache which he wore over his real mustache for some sort of disguise; and wore a brown suit with the same pink armband everyone else wore.

Another notable feature about this man was that he was wearing a rather ugly black scarf around his neck.

"Oh, sorry mein Fuhrer," Heinrich began but stopped himself as he could feel O'Mally burning him in the back with his eyes of disapproval.

"I mean," Heinrich corrected quickly. "Mein... old friend." The man with the comb over growled at him as he watched Heinrich examine the sheet of paper once more.

"Oh ,speaking of you," he stated in slight surprise. "Adolf Hipster, I already know you're present." "Right here," Hipster reminded for good measure.

"And finally," Heinrich concluded. "Last face I wanna see to day belongs to Joachim Ribbertom." "Here," a man in a pinstripe suit called out. He had short blond hair and blue eyes.

"Hmm," O'Mally pondered from behind and Hermler turned to him nervously. "That name sounds awfully familiar. Are you related to Joachim _von_ _Ribbentrop_ by any chance, are you?"

"Nein," Joachim panicked while Heinrich buried his hand into his palm. "_Nein! Nein! Nein_," Joachim kept repeating. He then abruptly started to collect himself after realizing his outburst was making him look even more suspicious.

"I mean... uh," Ribbertom said with a nervous laugh. "I have no idea who you're talking about. I most certainly have never heard of Sir. Ribbentrop, but he sounds like a ravishing individual to say the least."

Heinrich nodded with approval as Joachim continued. "That isn't to say that he isn't relevant today," Joachim proclaimed. "After all, _von Ribbentrop_ guided Europe through the darkest of events events! That, and from what I hear, he was definitely a lady's man."

"Okay," O'Mally said slowly after a curious pause. While Joachim smiled proudly, Heinrich hid his head once more into his palm.

"Anyway," Heinrich interrupted to regain control of his little meeting in the middle of nowhere. "As you may know, our Fuhrer Franklin Donut has run into some serious trouble."

"What kind of trouble," Manfoot asked sadistically while he rubbed his hands together in an evil way.

"French trouble," Heinrich informed. He resumed his pacing once more and held his chin up in the air. "The Fuhrer has ordered me to create a small Anti-France task force."

Adolf Hipster smiled brightly. "I've been invading France before it went mainstream." "Now, ladies," Heinrich called over Hipster's voice.

"That we're gonna be doing one thing and one thing only... Killin' French-fries. The French-fries will be disgusted by us! The French-fries will talk about us! And the French-fries will fear us. Each of you... owes me 100 French scalps!"

"Wait a minute," Goerface interrupted. "Why are we making such a big deal out of fucking France!? Why don't we just tell them to surrender?"

"Because, they refused," O'Mally interjected from behind. "They dared to defy us. This only means my feast of French blood will be delayed for about a month or so." O'Mally then let out his signature laugh of evil while the others shrugged his outburst off.

"O'Mally's statement does bring me to my crucial bit of intel on the French-fries," Heinrich continued. "Since the French have randomly acquired enough courage to declare open war on the Donutland. _And_ with some extensive research done by our military laboratories. We've determined that France is actually using an army of vampires."

Everyone's jaw immediately dropped after hearing such a far fetched conclusion. "How the fuck," Hipster began in bewilderment. "Do you make that conclusion. 'Uh-oh, the Frenchies are fighting back! Better break out the crosses and wooden stakes!'"

"Hey cool it, Adolf," Heinrich ordered which only aggravated Hipster even more. "It's obvious that they're vampires."

"Wow," Joachim nodded slowly. "That's pretty racist to say that all French-fries are vampires." "No," Heinrich argued. "It would be racist to say all Romanians are vampires," he corrected.

"Which they are," Heinrich then pointed off in the distance. Everyone turned around and sure enough, they could easily view a group of Romanians with long black capes; sacrificing a goat and preparing to drink it's blood.

Everyone turned back around quickly to try and whip the sight out of their heads. Although, Dr. Manfoot seemed to find the ritual amusing.

"Why do they have to do that shit here," Adolf asked with a hopeless shrug of his shoulders. Before anyone could make a response several bells could be heard in the distance ahead.

The group looked off in that direction to see several groan men on bicycles coming down the road.

"Oh God," Heinrich sighed. "What," asked O'Mally. "Who are these buffoons!?" "They're the Belgians," Hermler informed and swore under his breath.

"I told them to stay out of this, goddammit!" "Hey Germany," one of the Belgians called out while he tried to sound intimidating.

They pulled up in front of the line of both Germans and O'Mally. The Belgians then jumped off their bikes, allowing them to roll of a few feet before falling over.

"We heard you guys were starting another world war," the leading Belgian announced. "And guess what, we want in."

"Too bad, we already have Austria as an alley you fool," O'Mally snapped. "Yeah," the Belgian agreed cockily. "But we also heard you guys need a way into France. We can help you out."

"_Not so fast bitches_," a loud, Italian accent exclaimed from the opposite direction. Before anyone could so much as look to find the source of the voice, several Italians rode up to the crowd of people on horseback. Why they were riding horses was just as much of a mystery as why the Belgians were riding bicycles.

"If you think Italy is gonna miss out on another world war, you mother fuckers have got another thing coming," one of the Italians exclaim while holding a glass of wine in his right hand.

"No," Joachim sighed. "Why do you Italians have to ruin it for everyone?" "We're not ruining shit," the first Italian retorted.

"Look whatever," the leading Belgian yelled angry. "Italy can play too. Now, before we begin we need to go over the first rule of World War III."

"Everyone knows," Heinrich said dismissively. "The first rule of World War III," O'Mally interjected, proving this topic was common knowledge among the Europeans. "You don't talk about World War III."

"Very well, we accept the terms," the Belgian announced with loud pride. "We do too," an unfamiliar voice interrupted across the border of France.

Once again, everyone turned to see who was speaking to them as they could tell by the accent that they were not French.

The crowd of angry Europeans then rolled their eyes simultaneously to see the Americans sitting on a tank.

"We wanna play," an American called out. "Why," O'Mally questioned softly. "Why cant people just stay out of our business?"

"Fuck off, America," Adolf Hipster yelled. "Hey, you look kinda familiar," the American replied. Hipster immediately turned away to hide his face.

"Come on, bros," another American pleaded. "In a few years you're gonna be begging us to join because Germany will start kicking everybody's asses again!"

"No," everyone said firmly. "_Fine_," the first American snapped. "We'll wait over here until somebody bombs Pearl Harbor."

* * *

_(Location: Paris, France)_

A French soldier who's uniform looked oddly similar to the uniforms that they used in World War I, walked up to the Prime Minster of France.

"Sir," the soldier began. "Fuhrer Franklin Donut has agreed to our terms of war. He says that our army of vampires will not even touch the German, or excuse me... _Donut's_ borders."

"Very well," the Prime Minister informed before adopting a puzzled expression. "Wait... I didn't even know we had an army of vampires but that's awesome."

The Prime Minister then looked out of his office window dramatically. "You'd better prepare yourself, Donut. We're about to go Team Edward on your ass."


	7. Temporary Hiatus

Unfortunately, the story Voodoo Boys is under hiatus for the time being. I'm on the verge of finishing a different story and once that is complete, Voodoo Boys will return to production with new jokes and crazier events.


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